


Piano Bar

by KJaneway115



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Challenge Response, Challenges, Episode: s02e25 Resolutions, F/M, Ficlet, Romance, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 22:26:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12397497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJaneway115/pseuds/KJaneway115
Summary: Kathryn Janeway in a piano bar.





	Piano Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 2 Hour Writing Challenge with the following rules: You have 2 hours. Choose a location to write in that you can somehow incorporate into your story. You also have to incorporate at least 3 things you hear into your story and the name of one real person who is at or passes through that location while you are there. A million thanks to Mizvoy for the quick beta.

Voices rose in a din around her, competing with the dulcet tones of the piano.  The lush melody rose above the surrounding conversations as the singer’s rich, sonorous voice joined the accompaniment.  Kathryn Janeway sipped her wine and took in the atmosphere of the holodeck program.  She enjoyed the illusion of being surrounded by happy guests at a New York City piano bar.

“In this crazy life and in these crazy times, it’s you, it’s you,” the tenor sang.  A backdrop of red velvet curtains framed the handsome young man who sat behind the baby grand piano.  Small candelabra lined the wall, and the dim lighting lent the room a sentimental atmosphere.

Kathryn had come alone.  As captain, she had to maintain a certain level of professionalism, and there was no one she could ask to accompany her for a couple of glasses of wine at a bar.  Well, no one except Chakotay.  He was the only one she could confide in and treat as an equal.  He understood her position.  But that night, she just couldn’t ask him.

She had wanted to, desperately, but she had known it was a bad idea.  She’d known that she’d be tempted to cross the invisible line they had drawn between them.  She didn’t trust herself tonight, not in this place, with the music playing, and the wine, and the dim lighting.  It was a decidedly romantic atmosphere, and she knew that if she had invited Chakotay to join her tonight, that before long, she’d be reaching across the table for his hand.  And that wouldn’t be appropriate.  Not now.

The ache in her chest grew as she thought of her first officer.  She pictured his handsome face, his beautiful smile, the firmness of his muscles under his clothing.  Only a few hours earlier, she had been sitting next to him on the bridge, trying to force herself not to glance in his direction too often.  She wondered for the hundredth time that day how it was possible to miss someone so much when you saw them every day.

For two brief weeks, she and Chakotay had shared paradise.  After being stranded with him on New Earth for a month, she had begun to accept that they would live the rest of their lives there, and they had finally given into the mutual attraction and affection between them.  It had been many years since she had felt the exhilaration that permeated every moment of those few weeks.

The night Chakotay had told her the legend of the angry warrior, she had begun to feel that a deeper connection between them, both physical and emotional, was inevitable.  The next day, she discovered that energy sizzled between them at every touch and every glance.  Suddenly, each moment carried the anticipation of what was to come.  Chakotay began to touch her at unexpected moments—a hand on her lower back, a caress on her hand, an arm around her shoulders.  She began to speak in innuendo, purposefully teasing him, until the night he had leaned close, touching his nose to hers.  “I’m wondering when you’re going to kiss me, Kathryn.”

“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away,” the holographic pianist sang.  She sighed.  They had shared a few brief moments of bliss, and then Tuvok’s call had come.  She’d found, to her surprise, that she had not felt elated by the prospect of _Voyager_ ’s return.  Instead, uncertainty had washed over her.  She’d wanted nothing more than to rush into Chakotay’s arms and convince him to at least enjoy their last thirty hours together, but she’d hesitated.

“Kathryn,” he’d said, his voice catching in his throat, “don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“What do you mean?” had been her feeble reply.

“We can’t…”  He’d barely been able to speak, and he’d turned away to collect himself.  “Romance and a command structure just don’t work together,” he’d finally said.  “I’ve learned that the hard way.”

“But we could…” she had started to reply, barely able to believe the words coming out of her own mouth.  _What happened to the dutiful Starfleet captain?_ she’d wondered.  _Is this all it takes for her to throw everything she’s been taught out the window?_   And in that moment, she’d known.  “You’re right, of course.”

She met his eyes, then, and the torture in them matched her own.  “Chakotay.”  The word came out strangled, in a voice that didn’t sound like hers.

“I know, Kathryn, my love,” came his whispered reply.  “I know.”  He’d reached out, and their fingers brushed. 

The tears in his eyes mirrored the tears in hers as they spilled over and down her cheeks.  She wiped at them angrily.  “Well, I guess we better start packing.”

“Someday,” he started.

She shook her head.  “You were right.  Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

Now, they were back on _Voyager_ and everything was back to normal.  Their working relationship was flawless.  But she missed him.  She missed his touch and being able to touch him however and whenever she wanted.  She missed laughing with him.  She missed seeing his smile and the sparkle in his eyes.  She missed the way his gaze raked over her from head to toe.  She missed him so much, and seeing him every day sitting in the chair beside her did nothing to soothe the ache in her heart.

“We found love right where we are,” the musician sang.  _We did_ , she thought.  _Who ever thought it would happen?_ They were so different, supposedly enemies, but they had found love, love at a depth she hadn’t felt in years.  But by some cruel twist of fate they were prohibited from fully enjoying or experiencing it.

She wished he was sitting across from her, not an empty chair, that he would walk in and pull out the chair and ask, “Is this seat taken?”  She sighed.  She knew it was not to be.

“Some people want it all, but I ain’t got nothing at all if I ain’t got you,” the handsome young man crooned.

Janeway picked up her wine glass and took one long swig, draining the last drop.  She placed the glass down on the table and stood.  “Computer, end program.”  


* * *

  
The long, narrow room ended in a small stage lined with red velvet curtains.  Candelabra provided dim lighting, and conversations filled the room.  People talked and laughed, their voices competing with the dynamic, passionate musician who sat behind a baby grand piano, playing and singing.  Kathryn Janeway sat alone, sipping a glass of wine, listening to the young man sing.

“Darlin’, save the last dance for me,” he sang against a jaunty accompaniment.  Kathryn smiled, enjoying the young man’s talent.  She’d had a chance to meet him when he’d taken a break earlier in the evening.  He’d recognized the famous Captain Janeway of _Voyager_ and had introduced himself.  His name was Ben.  Janeway had a small table right near the piano, and Ben had given her several winks as he played his set.  She sighed as she looked at the empty chair across from her.

She shook off the momentary melancholy.  _Voyager_ was home, and nothing was going to put a damper on her mood tonight.  She was thoroughly enjoying herself, tapping her foot in time with the music and smiling as Ben played the upbeat song.  The people sitting at the table next to her began to sing along.

The upbeat pop song gave way to a sultry jazz tune, and Kathryn picked up her glass to take a sip of her wine.  As she put her glass back down on the table, the chair across from her was pulled out, and a baritone voice asked, “Is this seat taken?”

She looked up at the dark-haired, handsome man and smiled.  “It is now.”

“Can I get you another drink?” he asked.  “Looks like that one’s almost gone.”

“Sure.”

He disappeared to the bar for a moment before returning with two glasses of wine.  “Sorry I’m late,” he said as he sat down, pulling his chair next to hers.

“That’s all right,” she replied.  “I’ve been enjoying Ben’s music.”

“Ben?” he queried.

“Yes.  Ben.”  She gestured to the pianist.

“I see.  Should I go?  Do you and Ben want to be alone?”

She chuckled, then shook her head and raised her glass.  “Not a chance.”  They clinked glasses and each took a sip of wine.

“She is all I need,” Ben sang.

Kathryn put her glass down and reached for Chakotay’s hand.  “Do you know that there was a night I sat in a piano bar like this on the holodeck, wishing you were with me?”

“You did?”

She nodded.

“Where was I?”

She looked down at their clasped hands.  “It was just after we returned from New Earth.”

“Oh.”

“I knew I would want to do this,” she said, squeezing his hand and scooting her chair closer.  “And this.”  She leaned forward and pressed a sensual kiss against his cheek.  “And a lot of other things.  But I also knew that we couldn’t.  So I went alone.”

He cupped her cheek in his hand.  “You’ll never know how hard it was for me to end things like that, Kathryn.  I…”

“Shh,” she whispered, putting a finger on his lips.  “I do know.”

“I won’t hesitate no more,” Ben sang.  “I’m yours.”

Chakotay leaned close.  “All of that, it’s over now.  It’s all over now.”

She felt the tears sting her eyes.  She had waited years to hear those words, to feel the sadness and loneliness lift from her, to reach this day, this moment.  Chakotay leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and she felt life and joy and passion surge through her with an intensity she had not felt in years.  The exhale of breath they shared after the kiss was a sigh, a release of all the pain and suffering they had each endured alone.  Their lips met again, in a promise for all that was to come.

Kathryn threw her arms around his neck.  “Oh, Chakotay, I missed you so much.”

“Me, too,” he murmured into her ear.  “Me, too.”

She wiped her tears and settled into the crook of Chakotay’s shoulder, smiling as Ben started a new tune.  As the song said, “It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life, and I’m feeling good.”  In that moment, Kathryn knew that all the years of sadness and yearning and heartache had been worth it, and that now they were over.  It was time to begin again.  
   


End file.
